Not That Big of a Deal
by the corrupted quiet one
Summary: Kenny promised Kyle he wouldn't make his birthday into that big of a deal. Funnily enough, Kyle has a feeling he will anyway.


Kyle told Kenny about a hundred times: he doesn't have to make his birthday a big deal. It was probably more than a hundred times, more like a hundred _thousand_ times, spaced out over the entire month. He mentioned it over morning coffee, repeated it when he got home around five, mumbled it as they drifted to sleep. He said it and said it, but he knew Kenny was going to do it _anyway_. He _loves_ making anything Kyle-related into big deal.

Admittedly, Kyle likes when Kenny does that, _really_ _likes_ _it_ _a lot_. Which is why his adamant dissuasions probably never sounded _convincing_, sadness sneaking through the tiniest cracks in his otherwise steadfast tone, confidence waning as melancholy reverbed. It's not his fault that his mind kept wandering, thinking about how spring semesters ended just in time, how summer obligations didn't start for another week, how they had every hour to spend celebrating _however_ Kyle pleased. Or that reality always infringed on his sweet reminisces, reminding him that life works differently outside of college, that paid internships are less forgiving when time is taken off, that people need to work on their birthdays to afford the rent due next week.

Yeah, Kenny saw _right_ through him. Didn't try hiding it either. He'd nod reluctantly or hum nonchalantly, acknowledging without taking much heed. After enduring years of Kyle's trademark stubbornness, as a best friend and as a boyfriend, some must've rubbed off on him. So, rather than agreeing he wouldn't make it a big deal, he pointedly said he wouldn't make it _that_ big of a deal. Nice word choice, _real cute._

All day, Kyle's been waiting for… _something_. Something so cheesy it smells, so corny it pops, so sugary it shocks. But Kenny's an expert tease, takes pride in drawing things out, savouring lead-up then basking in the moment. Or maybe he just likes testing Kyle's patience. Why else would he insist they binge watch something on Hulu and keep things uncharacteristically _lowkey_? Scratch that; _pushing_ his patience is the better term.

_Pushing it to the damn_ _limit_.

Despite having the perfect combination of the world's second comfiest couch and Kenny's arm slung around him, tension seeps into Kyle's muscles, body going taut when it ought to go languid. He stares at the television, pours all his concentration into the nonsensical car insurance commercial, but nothing distracts him. He tries coming off calm as he lets out a sigh, but his breath mixes exhaustion and frustration, leaves his lips hot.

Fingers leisurely card through crimson curls, and Kyle's gaze flickers to Kenny. He pretends that a lobster in a hot tub is the most enthralling thing he's ever seen, sky blue fixated straight ahead. Except he's too focused, clearly thinking of something else, thinking hard about it, too. Kyle tilts his head, the slight motions jogging Kenny from his thoughts. He looks down to meet green, then flashes a smile. A nerve pinches the goofy curve, yet he manages a casual, "Wha's up, birthday bae?"

No, it's too casual. It's _suspicious_. Kyle slowly raises a brow, "You've been awful _compliant_."

Kenny snorts, leans in close, "You surprised I didn't tell your boss you were super sick so I could keep ya _bedridden_?"

Kyle blanks, their noses brushing together, lips scarcely an inch apart, _"A little bit, yeah."_

A quick kiss, "You said not to make a big deal."

Then another, longer two, "And you said not _that_ big a deal."

"Which reminds me…" _Aha!_ _There it is_. Kenny moves back, reaches into his pocket. He bites his lip, teeth digging in deep, as he pulls out a small, velvety box. He lifts the lid, _"Your present."_

Not _that_ big of a deal? Oh, he has _got_ to be kidding.

"Is that…" Kyle blinks, staring at the big reveal of a… "_Kuriboh?_"

"_What?_" When Kenny looks down, he does _not_ see the engagement band he spent three months saving for. No, he sees the commemorative ring he won after ranking second in a local Yu-Gi-Oh tournament, complete with an etching of the famed fluffy fiend. An easy mistake, right? _"Fuck."_

Okay, so he picked up the wrong ring. Doesn't change that he planned out a _birthday proposal_. And he is _not_ getting off easy.

Before he can react, Kyle grabs the ring, quickly slides it on. It's a size too big, fitting loose on his finger, he doesn't care, not even a little. Kenny's eyes widen as Kyle holds up his hand. He waits for Kenny to process, for his answer to register, for a grin to spread on his face. Then, and only then, does Kyle reply, _"No backsies." _


End file.
